Anya Comes to Visit

I thought I would have trouble getting up this morning after the big meal and late night but by 6:45 my body was done sleeping. After checking for e-mails I did my 20-minute workout. We were not at all hungry for breakfast.

Daniel took us to the second couch today and as soon as we sat him down to remove our coats and unload toys he was signing “more”. Not entirely sure what he had in mind, but when we asked if he wanted a cookie he answered in the affirmative in Russian.. He enjoyed a cookie and thereafter was very good at signing ‘cracker’, although ‘please’ is still by far his favorite sign and often gets him what he wants without being more specific. Can’t resist it.

Daniel rode on his motorcycle a bit, but was just as interested in standing where he could reach the handle, use it to tilt the front of the bike in the air, and then it drop with a resounding and satisfying bang. Since no one else was around to be disturbed at the time we didn’t stop him.

Our morning visit was interrupted when the doctor (who smiles and speaks better English than she gives herself credit for) and a caregiver came down to our corridor. She had a cell phone to her ear and asked for our translator (we think). John called Sergei, who talked to the doctor and then to us. Daniel needed to go see a doctor and they wondered if we would wait. Yes.

We had my computer (a mini) and the wireless Internet device with us so John surfed the net while I tried to work out the wool socks I am knitting to fit over Daniel’s braces with re-enforcements where the metal from the two feet rub and have been putting holes in the tube socks they put on him. Made some pretty good progress before they brought him back and we finished our visit.

Back up at Daniel’s room the very friendly older gentleman that works at the orphanage was getting ready to go home. He went inside to tell them we were back and cheerfully consented to having a photograph taken with Daniel. He is always friendly with Daniel when he passes down in the corridor, knows him by name as do all the staff it seems, and even stopped to share his apple-filled pastry with him the previous morning. I’m glad to have a picture for Daniel to keep. He also offered to give us a ride home (not that we could have told him where we live), but it is such a short distance and we needed to stop at the Billa, so we declined. He stopped his car and offered again when he passed us walking a few minutes later outside.


On our previous adoption we met five other families also adopting, but only one spoke Russian/Ukrainian. This time we have seen at least five other families and all of them speak Russian/Ukrainian. We are very glad to see this as it appears that culturally adoption is becoming more acceptable. More children will become part of families and at a younger age than those who wait for international adoption. (Children in Ukraine must be on the registry of adoptable children for an entire year before they are available for international adoption). Today we saw a couple visit briefly with a younger pair of twin girls - just beginning to walk, and then another couple with one girl I haven’t seen before, as well as the couple we frequently share the corridor with who are adopting Nastia (short for Anastasia),

On our way home we stopped at the Billa (grocery store) for water, oranges, a bit more chocolate. I tried to get more written and upload pictures before we headed out to meet Anya at the train station. John had studied our maps for Kharkov and of the Metro to figure out where to go. We originally planned to surprise Anya but if we didn’t see each other she would be headed to our home while we sat at train station. John sent a text message to her en route and in her reply we found out we had even more extra time than planned. When we emerged from the Metro via the train station we headed over to the McDonald’s where we waited with Sasha to meet Andrei our driver nearly three years earlier. After using the restroom we set off with our hot cappuccinos to purchase flowers for Anya.

We went back down into the Metro tunnels where vendors of all sorts work inside their booths. John had seen one selling flowers on our way up. The proprietor was busy constructing an arrangement of pink roses, each head individually wrapped in cellophane, with Baby’s Breath and more greenery and tied at the stem so the flowers stood out at very attractive angles. She had some other lovely arrangements displayed on the shelves behind her inside the glass booth/display case. She didn’t try to get our business at all so we were free to look at the various flowers down in water buckets (much like any flower shop or grocery store display at home). I wanted a bright, cheerful yellow and she had some tulips with fringed edges that were in perfect condition (unlike the roses we had to settle for that were given to the Inspector and director back on the day we met Daniel). She had nine of them and I picked up the whole cellophane sleeve, which had the price-per-flower attached, and held them out to her. I said “fso” (all of it). She did not look very happy (seemed strange) and pointed to the price. We said “da” (yes) and nodded encouragingly. She finished tying up the bouquet she was working on and pointed to another sign with the price on it emphatically saying something - presumably that the price was per flower, not for the whole bunch. We agreed again. John was holding out a bill that would more than cover the cost. She took them from me, shaking them just a little and asked “skolka?” (how many. We said “dyievet” (nine). She seemed to think maybe we understood her so she opened up the cellophane and started pulling them out one by one, tearing off a wilted leaf here and there, hold them together in an attractive bunch. When she had picked up all but one she showed them to us and said “dyievet” , but we said, hesitatingly, “vociem” (eight). She counted them out loud for us and had to agree. She added the last flower, wrapped them in fresh cellophane, happily took our money and returned the change.

The train station is a beautiful structure outside as well as in and very well maintained. We had never had a chance to take in this fact. On arrival the previous week we were so tired I can’t even be sure we went inside (I don’t think so). When we came to buy tickets to Kyiv on the last trip it was Nick and Dennis’ Gotcha Day. That was a very busy day and our focus was on getting them out of the orphanage and finding a way back to Kyiv. That day no compartments were left and the director was getting antsy to go home (but had to wait for us). Today we still had another 15 minutes before the train was due in at 2:42 so this time I was able to take a few pictures and a video clip to show the high, arched ceilings with paintings in each quadrant and the huge chandelier. We tried to position ourselves where we thought we could see the platform for Anya’s train and the top of two stairways she might come up. In the end it was the cell phones that allowed us to meet out in the square in front of the station. It is so good to see her again! It has been nearly three years since she spent time with us and the boys in Kyiv before we flew home.

We set out in search of food (soup was her request). We were so busy catching up that we missed the Metro station for “our” cafeteria which always serves good soup. We went all the way back to 23 Cerpnia and ended up at the Kumar Café which is at the end of our building. It turns out this is the café Anya ate at every chance when she used to come to Kharkov frequently for business (a previous job). She was delighted. She had salad and we all had soup. While she and I finished up John ran her things up to the apartment and grabbed our toys and blankets for Daniel (it was already 4:00).

The walk to the orphanage was slippery. Yesterday it had been quite slushy, today not at all.

Up in front of Daniel’s room the doctor who had come to get him this morning started talking to Anya. I heard her mention Sergei and was afraid she was questioning/doubting her right to be in the orphanage. Not at all. She did ask if Anya was here in place of Sergei (yes, he was busy with paperwork) and was glad to have an interpreter because she just wanted a chance to explain about the (outside) doctor visit this morning. That also gave me a chance to ask her a few questions that our children’s pediatrician back home had raised, getting information that would be completely unavailable when we got home. She was very helpful and forth-coming. I also had a chance to tell her how much I appreciate the care she has given now to all three of our children, that I know it is her job but she does it with much care. With Anya’s help I was also able to persuade her to let us take a picture, although she deferred until after she had made rounds.

We found John and Daniel down in the green corridor having some good quality time.

We moved up to ‘our’ second floor landing once I made certain it was empty. The first thing we did, because now we were late for our daily phone call to Nick and Dennis, was put through a video Skype call to the Engebrechts. It was difficult to find enough light for good visibility at our end, but Nick, Dennis and Daniel were able to interact for the fist time, seeing each other move and hear each other. Of course Daniel really had no comprehension of what was happening, but he stayed still and in front of the camera as I fed him small bits of cookie.

We spread out the blankets and continued a very good visit. Anya got out her D90 digital Nikon and snapped a bunch of good pictures. True to her word, the doctor found us and allowed a photograph or two.

Anya went through the photo album we brought to introduce Daniel to his new family and home, explaining things more completely than our limited Russian (and his limited English!) allows. We also tried to tell him that soon I will be coming home to get ready for Dad and Daniel to come home and that they would be riding on an airplane. Perhaps we should just find a way to just take Anya back with us, too. Seemed like a short visit. Anya was able to tell the caregiver that we wouldn’t be back the next day (Sunday) until evening.

We dropped our extra things off at the apartment and headed out to find food. We walked around our immediate area but found nothing more than the café we used this afternoon, and a woman with a cardboard table full of smoked or dried fish out in front of the flower market. Anya called a friend with more experience in Kharkov to find a French pastry/restaurant that all of her colleagues had raved about but which she had not tried. We found the appropriate Metro spot and started walking in the right direction, but watched for the place on the wrong side of the road so had quite a lengthy walk beyond it before stopping in a shop for further directions. After another appetite-enhancing walk back we entered a charming restaurant called “Paris” and were directed down a couple of levels to an intimate (non-smoking) room with just a few tables. The tables themselves were interesting: glassed topped displays with a variety of items - Beanie bear, post cards of France, Eiffel Tower key chain, etc. All had price tags attached.

They had no menus in English, but I’m learning it is better to consult with the waiter anyway. We determined we wanted only an appetizer to share, a hot entrée and dessert. We shared a cheese with shrimp fondue, dipping bread that was amazingly delicious all by itself. The waitress asked our preference of meat, and then described the entrees accordingly. John had a chicken steak stuffed with a touch of blue cheese and a cylindrical mound of rice. Anya had fish with a yummy green sauce and a similar mound of rice. I had a chicken steak topped with grilled vegetables and melted cheese. We all tried each other’s foods and everything was great. We all had tea - John’s was black, Anya and I shared green tea with jasmine.

Then dessert. Unfortunately for John, at that point in the (late) evening they had no pastry with chocolate left. He ended up with a multilayered cake and a small cup of melted chocolate. He as not disappointed. We have been trying to duplicate some drinking chocolate we experienced in St. Petersburg, Russia for six years now. This was a little different, but closer than anything we’ve managed. Anya said she has been making it at home since she was eight years old and likes it best with sour cream and very good powdered cocoa. She said this restaurant even makes its own cocoa powder. My dessert was an amazing creation of chocolate mousse, chocolate ice cream and whipped cream. The meal itself had been much more reasonably portioned than the previous night, but the richness of this dessert more than made up for it.


We snapped a picture and headed back home via the Metro. We fixed up Anya’s bed on the couch (mostly she did) and we all promptly went to bed - it was nearly midnight again.

Actually, feeling an obligation to our loyal readership, and with words and events swirling around in my head anyway, I stayed awake journaling for the blog until 1:45. Unfortunately I had left the Internet device in the other (Anya’s) room so I wasn’t able to post right away.